


I See Fire

by HiAjay



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Middle Earth Setting, Dragon!Stiles, F/M, Fem!Stiles - Freeform, Forced Bonding, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, M/M, Multi, Powerful!Derek, Ranger!Stiles, creepy Peter, evil!derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiAjay/pseuds/HiAjay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles can voluntarily take a bath, she can bathe in the water falls from the Elven country, she can swim with the water dragons of the east, but if her skin burned that sweet color of orange like the setting sun, and someone so happened to push her into water, it could kill the fire that keeps her heart thundering in her chest.</p><p>So she let's him know, she's his to kill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The City of Brone

What she hates the most is the rich, the snobby and the fortunate. Not because she's upset about her own short comings, but because they don't know the level of gratitude it takes to be proud when you have nothing.

  
  
Styli-anette has seen village, town and city, with many sorts of wealthy people, all because she has no sense of home.

  
Being an orphan since she was ten, she's learned to never get attached. Being unwanted because of the scales that shape her forehead, the bridge of her nose, shoulders and down her spine had taught her not to care.

  
Her mother called them beautiful scales, scales that shined emerald green and gold in the early sun light and a bitter auburn when the sun falls behind the mountains.

  
Styli-anette, she's learned to hide her face and stick to the forests' shadows and only visiting bordering towns. She'll follow the ravines, ridges, gorges, caverns, and rivers. She won't go into a town unless its a dire need, which rarely happens.

  
And when it does happen, Styli-anette finds that she makes a few friends and meets a few kindly faces.

  
Styli-anette has met several types of people in her travels from rangers(whom offered to take her under their teachings and kin), elderly farmers with children and grandchildren aplenty, black-smith's (whom offered her a dagger for protect and even inscribed it for her), to the worst type of people she's met, skin-shifters. Not even the dwarves were as crude, cold and uncaring as these Skin-shifters.

  
Now Styli-anette will not generalize all skin-shifters. Being that she is one, and she's met a handful on her travels that were kind and welcoming. It was the wealthy skin-shifters with a title and power that were cold and uncaring.

  
"Mistress!" Styli-anette hears a voice, a familiar one call her from the trees. She looks and sees a silhouette of a man on a branch watching her closely, she smiles, though its hidden by her dark hood she hands a gold coin to the elderly market lady and heads back into the trees, hearing distant cries of thank you's as she walks away.

  
Once in the cover of the thick forest trees she removes her hood and looks up into the offending branches "Now, Master Vernon, I thought we discussed not following me just the other 'morn." Stily-anette places her hands on her slim hips.

  
Vernon Boyd, a ranger and a skin-shifter that was in charge of watching and protecting Styli-anette when she first met the leader of these rangers. They were an odd bunch, made up of skin-shifters and humans, but kind and homing-coming nonetheless.

  
Vernon jumped from his branch and landed in front of Styli-anette, unimpressed she rolled her eyes.

  
"We did, mistress." He answers with a bemused semi-smile on his lips.

  
"I take it you didn't hear a word I said to you." Styli-anette said with a smile of her own, a greeting smile. She walked beside Vernon and headed into the deep forest, were their camp is hidden.

  
Vernon gave her a side-long look before he huffed and straightened his shoulders and stood high above Styli-anette's own head.

  
"You're too tall, Master Vernon. How ever does Miss Erica kiss you?" Styli-anette says ever so boldly. Because she's never had control of her words. She catches the stiffening of Vernon's shoulders and the quick beat of his heart, but soon he's back to his stoic self.

  
"Don't ask questions that don't involve you, Mistress." Says Vernon sternly. Which is a que that Styli-anette has learned means shut-your-lips-so-I-can't-even-hear-you-breath, she's spent enough time with him to know that he cares about her no matter what he says. He gently shoves his elbow against hers, playfully of course. Styli-anette smiles up at him.

  
"You are my favorite, Vernon."

  
"Its Boyd, Mistress."

  
"Its Stiles, Boyd."

  
They smile at each other before making it to their camp, where everyone is seated in different locations.

  
Mistress Erica was seated on her bedroll, kicking dirt into an already dying flame. Master Scott was hidden within his cloak, snoring loud enough that the birds fled the area. Master Ethan standing watch by a small river glancing over to nod at them, then turning back, Master Danny stood close by to Ethan, Stiles knew they were partners from the start, it was understandable(They took to Stiles like a daughter, she was okay with that.). Master Tilikum, (the head ranger, Stiles’ rescuer and adoptive father) was leaning on a large tree trunk carving something out of a small log, nothing bigger then Stiles' own hand.

 

Vernon took his seat next to Erica, where she smiled up at him. Stiles watched with warmth that settled in her chest. A warm hand found her shoulder and she looked to see Tilikum, he’s stone amber gaze and short breaded face, “We need to move west.” Says Tilikum, his voice quiet and deep.

 

“West? Tili, that’ll lead us into Brone.” Stiles has history in Brone, a city ruled by a powerful family of Skin-shifters, it was a wealthy city with plenty for all its dwellers. God forbid you be an outsider looking for food and shelter for a night, “We can head east. It’s longer bu-”

 

Tilikum’s hand tightens on her shoulder, “Styli-anette.” Stiles stopped short on her words, he lips clamping shut. Tilikum only calls her by her name when he’s not in the mood to argue, not to mention he’s to only one that can pronounce it correctly. Stiles sighs, there are many reason she hates Brone, but one will always out shine the other.

 

Now, Stiles lived on her own since she was ten years of age up until she met Tilikum. She was in her twenties then. “I’ve warned you about Brone, Tili. But if we must go there, then so be it.”

 

Stiles wasn’t excited, nor was she expected to be, “Aren’t getting to old there are we Lass?” Erica called as she finished rolling up her bedroll. Stiles rolled her eyes because she is far from old, Erica is the second oldest of this company, with Boyd following short after being the ages of thirty and thirty-four.

 

Scott was the youngest, being the age of twenty, he’s nothing but a child and Stiles’ best friend. “I will never understand how all of you age.” Danny called as he made his way to them.

 

“Skin-Shifters are younger, we don’t really age and we don’t die.” Said Boyd as he settled his horse; Erica doing the same. Tilikum shook his head and went to ready his horse.

 

“How long have you been around Lass?” asked Danny, he’s fingers playing with the ropes and ties of his bedroll.

 

“Lord help you if you’d asked my age.” She laughed, she fiddled with her cloak and realized she was almost a century older then her companions, having seen mountains fall and raise, people die, wars start and end, and watching kingdoms fall till there was nothing left but askes and frame work from homes, ruins apon ruins. She was around much to long and she was much to old. “I’ve been around long enough, Master Danny.” she answers blankly, _all in due time,_ she thinks. Her eyes find Scott, still asleep on the ground, she nudged him with her foot and he woke with a start.

 

“I got it! I got it!” He shouted.

 

Everyone chuckled as he slowly came back from his dream, he looks up at Stiles and frowns, “Dreaming of the Lass back home are we?” Stiles said with a chuckle.

 

Scott grumbled and stood from where he lay, “She isn’t just a Lass, Stiles. She’s going to be my bride.” Says Scott proudly.

 

“Any woman slow enough to marry you should be not to slow herself.” Danny laughed as he mounted his horse. Everyone joined in the laughter, Scott continued to frown and grumble as he made his way to mount his horse.

 

“Cheer up.” Stiles tells him, “We’re headed to Brone.”


	2. Wolves They Are

 

The forest of Brone were thick and the air was near toxic. Creatures that weren’t allowed into the city were pushed and forced to live in the thick woods that surrounded it. Stiles pulled her hood up and kept her eyes low, she knew what wondered these woods, there was something dangerous and fast, something that no mere weapon can hurt.

 

“We’re just a mile out.” Said Tilikum, “We’ll pass through quietly.” He assured his companions, Stiles kept her back to them, she knew better.

 

“There’s no passing by  _quietly_ , Tili.” She whispered to herself. She hears a branch break a foot away from her, “Stop. Be still.” She paused, lifting her head and searching the dark shadows, “We’re being followed.” She meets Tilikum’s eyes, he nodded towards her, Stiles dipped her head back to the ground and made a light of her steps.

 

She, of course refused to ride a horse, Stiles preferred walking to riding. Spending most of her time walking, she feels odd on a horse and feels that the horse wouldn’t like her fiddling and twitching on its back. So she stood ahead of them, leading them through the forest.

 

It’s been sixty years since the last time Stiles has set foot through those large metal doors. She can still remember the sweet smell of fresh baked breads, the taste of freshly picked apples, and the smell of old pages in the old book stores.

 

Stiles stops and holds out her arms, “There’s no need to hide, I can smell the leather and cow-hid that coats your skins.” She whispers into the wind, because she knows these creatures, she knows the broken souls that sit outside the city doors, a young child comes forward.

 

Her clothes are worn and slightly torn, she smiles up at Stiles, “Mistress Anette!” She giggles running to Stiles, her arms wide, Stiles bends down on one knee and takes the child in her arms laughing along with her.

 

“Oh, you’ve grown so big Ann!” Stiles pulls her away and sees her bright green eyes and pale freckled skin, “Look at you. You look just like your mother.” Says Stiles with a smile on her lips.

 

Ann looks over her shoulder, “Who are they, Miss?”

 

Stiles looks over her shoulder, Tilikum was the first off his horse, the others followed shortly after, “They are my friends, they won’t hurt you.” She tells Ann assuring her, Ann smiles and takes her hand, Stiles gestures her companions to follow.

 

“Mother’s been busy.”

 

“Isn’t she always?” Stiles laughs.

 

Ann takes her into the forest, a short walk from the path they’ve left behind. They come up to a habble of a home, made from a large tree, the inside carved out as a door way into the house that lay within the tree itself.

 

“Ann your-” A dark haired woman dressed as if ready for war comes from the opening of the tree, Stiles smiles, “La- Anette!” The woman runs to her and tosses her arms around Stiles’ neck, “I was worried about you, Child.” She pulls away and smacks Stiles’ arm with a fond smile, “Don’t you know how to visit?”

 

Stiles smiled, “Melissa, I’ve missed you too. As you can see, I’ve been busy.” Stiles gestures to the men and woman behind her, Melissa takes a step back her features frowning as she looks them over. “You’re not planning to pass through Brone, are you?”

 

Stiles sighed, Melissa’s features twisted into frustration, “Do you have a death wish? Do you know remember that la-”

 

“Please.” Stiles stops her, her companions don’t need any more information about her past, she hardly shares with them anyway, “I remember. We need to get through, Mel.”

 

Melissa gives her and her companions a stern glare before she sighs and leads them into her home. Their careful not to track mud into the front steps and are all seated in a large dining area, “What happened last time?” Came Scott’s voice.

 

Stiles wanted to wave him off, wanted to hid away, but Melissa came into the room with a jug of drink for them, “What do you know about Skin-Shifters?” she asks.

 

Scott, Vernon, Erica, and Ethan share a look before Danny says, “Most of us are skin-shifters.” Melissa looks at those at the table. She points a slim finger at Tilikum.

 

“He isn’t.”

 

“How di-”

 

“Neither is he.” Melissa points to Danny, “Just because most of you are skin-shifters doesn’t make any more welcome in the city of Brone. I wouldn’t deem wise.” She finishes Stiles holds in a giggle, Melissa is one of Stiles’ oldest friends, they met when Melissa was passing through the westlands forest in Bree, Stiles tried to steal from her and ended up in Melissa healing bed for three days.

 

Melissa wasn’t like most humans, She was a spirit healer. Stiles would visit her when she was in need of help or when she was too hurt to go on. “How did you know we weren’t skin-shifters?” Danny asked.

 

“I’m a healer, Boy. I need to know you what you are before I can heal you.” She smiles.

 

“Mel, we need to get into Brone.” Stiles brings her attention back, “There are . . . _Things,_ that we need.”

 

“There are guards on the gates at all hours, the only way in is by, well-” Melissa takes a look at the rest of them and leans into Stiles, “You know the only way to get in, Anette.” There was warning in her voice. Stiles did know the only way in and out of the city, but her companions weren’t fast enough and she’s have to go in alone.

 

“What is it that you need from Brone anyway?” Melissa asks.

 

“That isn’t any of your concern.” Says Tilikum his voice coated stone and cold. Melissa raised a brow at him and huffed disbelieving.

 

“Did you forget where you sit?”

 

The room went silent, Stiles was, of course the first to break it, “I need new herbs. My companions need more food and water. Brone was the closest city.”

 

After a hum, Melissa nodded and went up a flight of stairs and came back with a paper, “You remember trade, don’t you Child?” Melissa hands her the old and worn parchment. Stiles nods and thanks her.

 

Melissa sends them on their way, letting them know that there’s a gate for breeders, farmers, and traders on the west side of the main gate.

 

“Be careful Anette. There’s a new heir to the throne of Brone, she is kind, but not as kind as Talia.” Melissa told her before she made her way out, “Wolves they truly are.”

 

With that, Stiles was on her way.

 

“What she say to you?” Scott asked, Stiles raised her hood over her head to hide her face once again.

 

“You heard her.”

 

They walk forty yards before the see the gate, a few feet back they tied Scott’s, Vernon’s, Ethan’s and Stiles’ hands to one of the horse, _Slaves again,_ Stiles thinks. The get hauled with their hoods covering their faces and their eyes lowered. Tilikum talks to the gate keeper “I’ve come for food and water.” He says stone like.

 

“And them?” The guard asks.

 

“I’ve been told to trade them off east of here.” Tilikum answers. Tilikum then tugs the horses along, they keep their heads down until they’ve made it past the gate.

 

Erica does quick work of the ropes and apologizes for having them tied, which Stiles smiles through. It had to be done, otherwise they’d be stuck on the other side of that wall.

 

Stiles makes her way to the head of the group, keeping her eyes low and her hood up, “Keep quiet and follow me.” She whispers.

 

For the first yards they do as told, Scott only leaning closer to her as they make their way through the narrow walks and crowded roads.

 

“Dweller of the northern sky.”

 

Stiles stops in her tracks, her skin growing cold and her muscles tensing, “An apple for your travels.” An elderly voice, a woman.

 

“I have no money, I speak no tongue.” Stiles answers. “I seek refuge in the northern sun.”

 

The woman’s mumbles carried away and Stiles continued walking, “How- What did you say to her?” Scott asked, Stiles raised her head slightly and found his chest. “Did she come from your home land?” he asked.

 

“Yes.” Was all Stiles answered. She didn’t like to speak about her home, she didn’t like to _remember_ her home, and it twisted her heart and churned her stomach. There wasn’t anything she’d tell them unless it was of her physical person. She just doesn’t like it.

 

Stiles leads them to a small inn where they settle, “Where are you off too?” Vernon asks. His body shadowed out by the deep moonlight, “You’re secretive Stiles, I know this. But you particularly hate Brone. Why?”

 

“It- Don’t ask questions that don’t involve you.” She heads out, the cool night air filling her nose and cooling her heated skin. The only welcoming thing in Brone was the refugees and it’s autumn nights.

 

Stiles walked around the empty streets for a few short hours before she could feel a pair of eyes on her, she didn’t need to turn to know that the stare was cold. She could feel it, she’d remember that stare for the rest of her life, however long that may be.

 

“Talia has passed.” Stiles says to nothing, “Her daughter, Laura, there isn’t good word of her, I’m beginning to doubt your abilities with teachings.” Stiles turns around to see the stern, cold blue gaze and fangs that were exposed in a tight grin.

 

“My teachings had no affect on her.”

 

“Why are the refugees sleeping outside the city walls.” Stiles points out, because she knows the answer and will not wait for him to give it to her.

 

His smile just grew, “I’ve waited a hundred years to see you again, Stiles. You’d make a fine gift for my nephew.” He growls, almost happily avoiding her question. Stiles shudders slightly because the thought of being anywhere near the monster that this man is-

 

“I’d cut my own head off first, Peter.” She spat. Peter chuckled and make quick to her side, gripping her arms behind her back and holding a clawed hand at her throat.

 

“That’s a terrible thing to say.” Peter whispers in her ear, “You see, my Nephew is rather lonely, and spends most of his time brooding up in his bedroom.”

 

“Like I care.” She groans under the pressure.

 

“You know, I’m always there for my family, Stiles.” And before she could fit another word, her world went dark.


	3. Your voice is beautiful

The dark surrounded her when she awoke, the dim light if the moon only working its way through small openings on the walls. Stiles rubbed her eyes and looked around, there were sitting areas, something that looked like a throne, a bed that was covered in sheets Stiles could only dream she could afford, and double doors that opened up into a spacious room.

 

She rubbed her eyes again, “Don’t worry, Child. You’re not dead.” Peter’s cold voice crackled through the empty room, he stepped out of the shadows and looked down at Stiles, “You’ll be living here, Stiles. This will be your home, because I know you’ve been dying to have one.”

 

“I have no home.” Stiles spit out. She was quick to jump up off her feet and make her way to him, he backed up and she couldn’t reach him, he was there right under her finger tips, but something was stopping her.

 

“What is this?” Says Stiles, her brows knitted tightly together; Peter gave a sick sounding chuckle and grinned at her.

 

“You’ve traveled to so many places, but you’ve never heard of this.” He told her, amusement coating his features, “It’s sand from the red mountains.”

 

Stiles’ eyes widened as she took a step back, she looked down a thin line of bright red sand fixed around the room, _how did I miss that?_ She thought. “You can’t kee-”

 

“Oh I can, Child. And I plan too.” Peter stepped forward, “You see, this sand not only keeps you trapped, it renders you from shifting. Unlike your _companions_ I know what you are, those beautiful scales of yours have become . . . _rare_.” Peter was close enough that Stiles froze in her place, he ran a cold finger down the length of her face, smiling as he did so.

 

“And see, my nephew, he is rather lonely and I hate seeing him brood alone during the mating moon.”

 

Stiles flinched back, _that’s what he wants me for?_ She pulled back as far as she could, her chest burned with new flames of agony, “I’ve not been fertile in sixty years.” She whispered through her gritted teeth. “Your nephew should know how to fend for himself.” Stiles pits back.

 

Peter just grins at her, Stiles knows wolves can tell if someone is dishonest, and she would not lie about her own eggs, “Dragons don’t mate like wolves, I know this Child.” Peter chuckles, “You are just a means to an end you see.”

 

Her throat burns, and not with the flames that want to burn Peter’s skin and muscle from his bones, no, this is sadness, this is anger. “My nephew will be here in the morning, see to it that you’re ready for when he arrives.” Satisfied with bringing Stiles so far below the scale of human he leaves with a loud shut of the door.

 

Stiles let’s herself cry. The tears burning as the left her eyes leaving marks the will heal as soon as they arrive. She finds a corner in the darkest part of the living space, not bothering to explore or find a way out, _there is no way out_ she added.

 

She sat there curled within herself until morning.

 

She awoke to stomping and the sound of books being tossed, her eyes opened and she looked around, the sun was lighting every inch of the room before her, everything but her dark corner, happy that she was left alone; she stood up and stretched out her sore muscles.

 

 _Do I really want to know what’s on the other side of this wall?_ She asked herself. She rounded the corner anyway.

 

In the brightest patch of sun was a man, his back turned to her, his hands working fast some parchment on a table. His shoulders where brood and wide, his skin was darker then hers, tan almost, his hair shined black, and for a moment, Stiles found herself curious to see this man’s face.  She didn’t deem it wise, content with the space he kept and the fact that he hasn’t noticed her yet is fine with her.

 

He began to grumble under his breath, as if he was talking to himself. Stiles looked down at the floor where the red sand was lining the room. She noticed that there was a new line, a darker one. She knelt down and tried to touch it, but of course is was on the other side of the red sand, Stiles couldn’t touch it if she tried.

 

“Wh- You.”

 

Stiles’ eyes snapped up to meet the man whom face she’d (But totally thankful—no, no, bad Stiles.) didn’t need to see. His features were set and shark, facial hair covering his cheeks and chin, his eyes a blazing pale hazel, Stiles froze in place, _if I don’t move he won’t see me, right?_

Wrong.

 

“You. What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice deep and gruff, his eyes trailing her, she stood up quietly, _you cannot run from wolves, child, don’t try._ She took a hard swallow and lowered her eyes.

 

“I asked you a question.” He growled.

 

Stiles growled back, she will not be ordered around by some pigheaded prince charming, she looked through her lashes and saw that said prince charming glared at her, _guess he’s never been growled at before_ she counts her small victory.

 

But that’s when the beast attacked her, crossing the space between them and taking hold of her arms with one large hand and forcing her chin up to meet his eyes, “Do you know who your speaking too.” He growled, a deep, rough rumbled. His body pressed up to hers feeling it’s way around. Stiles shivered, but her eyes stayed on his, daring him to hurt her, “You don’t own me.” She spit out angrily from the tightness of his grip on her jaw. Stiles’ world went dark once again.

 

She woke up to pain that shot through her lower body, her arms tied up above her head and her legs lifeless and numb. Her skin chilled over from a cold breeze, she shook awake, her naked body exposed to the world she pulled on her hands but her wrist burned with every pull. That’s when she noticed a man on top of  her.

 

Not just _a man_ , the brooding one. Only his face wasn’t human, it was almost animal like. His eyes glowing bright blue and fangs that looked shark enough to rip her throat out, even through her tough scales.

 

Her growled as she tried to take control of her legs, “Get off me.” She growled back, but he leaned over her and took her shoulder in between his fangs, she screamed loud enough to hurt her chest; she began to kick and pull at her arms But enough of trying left her with him gripping her legs tighter and pushing against her torso for support.

  
Five suns and Five moons has passed and Stiles didn't even bother crying out anymore. What use were her lungs if she used them up screaming at this beast to stop when he wouldn't. She lay naked and her pale skin covered in purple and green markings that weren't her scales. Her arms were tired, so were her back and her legs. The cool sheets covered her trembling body, shifting like skin over muscle against her.

  
Stiles looked at the sleeping body next to her, his face soft and unguarded he lay a good arm away from her, but kept his face towards her, he was no fool to turn his back on someone he doesn't know. She quietly slipped through the sheets and stepped lightly to where the moon shined in from a large opening, (of course every inch of this living space was covered in dust of kings there wasn't any escaping.) she held her hand up to where the light encased it.

  
She sighed tiredly, she made a fist then brought it down to her heart, it’s been three days, and her companions should have left the city by now. 'They are safe,' she thought. She held her hand up again and took in a breath as the cool autumn air blew at her hand.

  
"What are you doing."

  
Stiles tenses and brings her hand back down, closing both arms to her chest. She glanced over her shoulder just slightly, he didn't ask, he ordered, but Stiles wasn't a wolf she would not sachem to his demands. She crowded herself in the nearest dark corner, where she could feel as if she had some control over what she did.

  
"Don't hide from me." He growled, Stiles didn't suppress the shiver that crawled up her spine, there's no point in her fighting it, she was too tired, too broken.

  
"Come out of there." He ordered.

  
Stiles only pushed further into her corner. She saw him take a step towards her and her own growl rumbled through her, "If you value the skin you have, I'd stay away, Master Hale." She warned, already feeling the burn of the flames in her chest. It wasn’t long after that Stiles figured this was Peter’s nephew, his name provided by a young human lad by the name of Isaac whom brings them food. 

  
Derek took his step back and left the room, when Stiles felt it safe she stood up and looked to where the moonlight came through the opening “ _O mor henion i dhu: Ely siriar, el sila Ai Aniron Undomiel,_ " she sang quietly into the wind in hopes the wind will carry her song to her companions, her Brothers. “ _Tiro El eria e mor I 'lir en el luitha 'uren._ _Ai Aniron.._ ”

  
She wiped a tear that trailed down her eye, she sat on the cold stone floor and remembers her life outside these walls. The fresh air, the open spaces and the deep ravines that cut through the moors. The smiles on Erica's face, the laughter that barreled through Scott's chest, the embraces from Ethan and Danny, and most of all, the safety in Tilikum's arms.

  
Her eyes soon shut and she finds long awaited sleep.

  
Though it isn't long when she awakes with a start, she looks around to see she's been dressed and is in bed, were the warm sun sets on her body.

  
"You have a beautiful voice." Derek says. Stiles' eyes snap up to meet a well dressed Derek, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes set in stone. Stiles just lays back down and covers her head with the sheets.

  
"You _will_ talk to me some time." Derek growls low and in warning. Because, no Stiles will not talk to him at all; why would she need to, it’s not like she is trying to get know him or mate with him, because she can't. Even if Derek himself is trying to force a bond on her, she can’t mate not now and not when she has no home to return too.

  
The day passes, sir Isaac brings them food and always sets beside Stiles asking her questions that she happily answers, seeing that Derek's already broken three spoons and a bowl "Where were you headed Mistress?" Isaac asks kindly, Stiles gives him a soft smile then takes a spoonful of vegetable soup before answering.

  
"I was headed to the Mountains of Bale."

  
Isaac smiles back at her his back straightened as he leans in "The land of the Dwarves? What were you hoping to find?" He asks curiously, his person reminding Stiles of Scott and how overcome with ideas and questions he had for Stiles

  
Stiles smiles down at her bowl, suddenly not hungry she pushes it aside and gives a small sigh. "My brothers. I- they left the city five suns ago. That's where I'll find them. The dwarves have been nothing but kind to me since I first met them, they'll take care of my kin." She meets Isaac sweet brown eyes that are now filled with pity and sadness.

  
"You are not the last of your kind?" Isaac asks.

  
_'Styli-anette I need you to fly, dear. Fly!'_   
  


  
"Mistress? Are you alright?" Stiles shakes her head and meets Isaac's eyes, he has a hand to her shoulder comforting her back into reality.

  
"I- I'm quite sorry. I- I've had enough for today. I'm sorry, Child. I need to rest now." Stiles pulls away from him, forcing herself back into the bedroom and buries herself under the sheets, the bitter autumn sun shining a dim orange on the stone ceiling and her eyes shut and into the dreams of her Brothers and friends find her once more.


	4. History Of Song

"I hear your voice, calling out, on the wind."

  
Stiles hears one night, the sound surrounds her like the fire in her blood. She jumped up and off the bed, heading to the opening in which she always goes to. Her companions have answered her, have heard her. She smiles up at the dark sky.

  
She cups her hands over her mouth, "I'm glad you are all safe. Is king Glodadin still ruling?" Stiles held her hands out the opening and let the wind carry her words. She stood back, she knew wasn't going to get a response immediately (She'd taught them, Scott was the only one that really listened, while the others just smiled on as she explained) they were new learners.

  
It almost took Stiles' mother all of Stiles' egg life and childhood to teach her how to send messages through the wind. Stiles doesn't know if she's the last of her kind, Dragons haven't been seen for over eighty years and Stiles gave up searching years before. Her speak would only be understood by dragons, Stiles has yet to meet a another dragon, so she taught her companions.

  
"You speak in tongue, my Lady." Derek said, his voice low and gruff. Stiles didn't look his way, she was his prisoner and nothing more. Peter told her the mating moon was soon. But when was soon.

  
"You speak with Isaac, how am I so different." He growled. Stiles hoped he hadn't seen her flinch, she was sure with those bright blazing blue eyes like his uncle's he wouldn't miss the small body movement. Stiles placed a hand on her right shoulder, where Derek's bite mark scars and dents her once beautiful scales.

  
Derek takes a step forward and Stiles growls. He's been able to leave these prison walls when Isaac broke the seal. He was under orders to release Derek(being a prince and all) he told Stile when she'd asked him why he didn't break hers first. Derek only comes by to watch Stiles sleep or listen to her weep after she has sent messages to her companions.

  
She knows this, she can feel him enter the room (no matter how quiet he is) she can hear him breathe, and sometimes, she can smell him in the air after he leaves.

  
Derek is staring back at her like he's never seen her before, then he opens his mouth "Your kind have been dead for over eighty years." What a kind thing to say to a Lass, don't ya think, "How is it you managed to survive." It wasn't a question, if it was a question Derek would have to have feelings to ask such a question, would have to have sympathy, plus he sounded as if the thought of Stiles actually surviving was a sore on his tongue.

  
Stiles finally stares him in the eyes, with all the sorrow, agony, pain, anger, and regret she had left. "Do you know why a Dragon sings, Master Hale." She pushes past him into a room that holds his large collection of books, the knowledge that this man held was incredible, why he couldn't use said knowledge she'll never know. Though she could not blame him for the lack of Dragon books and scrolls. Dragons were tight knit and only shared secrets within Dragon circles. Stiles broke that rule plus many others when she’s told Scott and the others, even if she just wanted to feel like she was home again, it wasn’t right to teach them.  
  
  
 _  
_When she didn't receive an answer she turned to face him, he's already standing a foot or two away from her, "They sing when they are lost. When their hearts are broken, when their souls have no fight left in them." She feels her chest tighten up-

_  
"Styli-anette, child, stay with me." Her mother held her hand put, scales shinning through on her exposed wrist. She held on to her mother tight and secure as they walked through the stone halls. There was sun light that illuminated the castle as they walked, this was Stiles favorite time of day._

_  
They came up to  large doors the opened up wide, there were carpets of red and gold lining the floor, gold clothes hanging from pillars of the large open throne room "My King." Stiles' mother called, a smile so fond and adoring on her lips, "Styli-anette and I are waiting for you." The king, Smiled at them both from where he sat writing He smiled at then both just as fondly._

_  
"My Queen," his voice soft and kind "I'm ready as long as you are."_

  
\--  
  
Stiles sees Derek take a step closer, "Don't." She growls. “Dragons sing to find their way  _home._ ” Stiles knows she hit a nerve in Derek when he swallowed harshly, She pulled open a book about forest nymphs, stroking her fingers over the imagines of the families and the homes crafted from hay stock and large forest branches.

 

 

“Where is your home?” Derek asked, pulling Stiles attention away from the book, her heart clenched, Stiles hadn’t had a home since-

 

 

_“John!” her mother screamed, “John!” they ran through the halls, Stiles at her mother’s side, running until her legs felt like they’d fall. The walls were hot compared to how cold and soothing they were before._

 

_“John!” she cried, Stiles could feel the worry and the fear her mother felt, their bond was strong and soon Stiles could feel a sting of pain raise from her chest._

 

_“Mother, it hurts.” Stiles took hold of her mother’s wrist. “Moth-”_

 

_“Styli-anette, dear, Fly!” She pushed Stiles towards a small doorway that lead into a balcony._

 

_“No, Moth-”_

 

_“Now! Stiles! Fly!”_

 

_Her mother pushed her hard, Stiles reluctantly headed into the balcony. The flames were high and bright, She’s seen many fires, but this one, this one was burning_ black.  _Stiles made quick work of her shift, her skin scaling over emerald and gold, becoming hard as the stone of her home. Her wings stretched and she took off._

 

_She could feel the pain and hear the screams of her people._

 

_\--_

 

“The Mountain of  Dolliana.” Stiles answered. “I no longer have a home.” Her eyes hard and sharp on Derek; He hasn’t moved, hasn’t bothered to move.

 

 

“Why do you sing?”

 

 

Stiles feels her heart clench three times over, she’s been singing to her only family, they only people that know what to listen for. “Unlike you, Master Hale. My kin are my companions. They are my brothers and Sisters.”

 

 

Derek’s jaw clenched, “My home was taken from me, burning its walls with  _black flames_ , Master Hale. I’ve  _felt_  as my people burned. As my  _family_ burned and I the only one to get away.”

 

 

Stiles felt her eyes burn with tears, Derek took a step forward and Stiles’ chest and throat lit in a beautiful orange with small cracks the work its way under her jaw, Derek held his hands up, Derek stayed where he stood, “I sing because my home is with my companions. Dragons are solitary, but I’ve gone long enough without family.” Stiles paused as she swallowed passed the lump in her throat, “Though, it seems that I’m without my family _again_.”

 

 

Stiles doesn’t, hasn’t talked about her companions, just thinking about them creates a pain in her chest, a pain she doesn’t want to acknowledge. Stiles can smell Derek’s want, his need to comfort her. Dragons, very different from wolves, can smell and see things that wolves can’t. Stiles knows more about Derek without speaking a word to him, than Derek has tried to learn with talking to her.

 

 

Stiles looks back down at the book under her fingers, reading about Forest nymphs, Stiles laughs because it reads that nymphs are the kindest creatures in the forests of Brone. Stiles will tell you that they are not. The kindest Nymphs are the one in the river of Drowling, they are also the most beautiful.

 

 

“Once the mating moons have passed, Master Hale, Isaac will break the sands of Kings, I’ll leave here; breaking everything in this room so one other woman may suffer the same.” Stiles stares at Derek, meeting his eyes, the pale hazel staring cold and almost unfeeling.

 

 

“I’m tired. I going to rest. Good afternoon, Master Hale.” Stiles closes the book and makes her way past Derek, feeling his heat brush her skin as she walked around him and rested herself in her dark corner, waiting for Derek to leave before she fell asleep.


	5. A dream that would never become.

Stiles remembers the first time she shifted, her body to big for her. She remembers the first time she roasted the tip of her tail because it scared her. She’ll say her dragon is bigger in size now though she hasn’t shifted since first she flew over the flames in the mountains.

 

Stiles was curled into a ball on the bed, her skin running cold as she dreams of watching the flames engulf her home. You would think that a Dragon could handle fires, that out of all things, fires were the last of weapons to use against them. You’d be wrong.

 

She awakes with a start, sweat working its way down her face and neck. Her hair, matted to her face; her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, she looks around frantically as she pushes herself off the bed and onto the floor. “Mistress!” Stiles’ attention snaps to a voice across the room.

 

Isaac’s face was shifted between something sweet and sour; Stiles shook her head violently as she pushed further away from Isaac, “Stay away!” She growled, feeling the heat of her fire in her stomach, she feared hurting Isaac. He froze where he stood, Stiles finally seeing what she was meant to, she reached out for Isaac wordlessly.

 

He ran to her crowding her in an embrace where she sobbed burning tears, “It’s alright, Mistress.” Isaac whispered into her hair as he rocked her in his arms. Isaac was her comfort, her new companion. He would not ask questions about Stiles’ behavior, or question her sleeping habits, he’d let her be. Much like Scott did when he first met Stiles.

 

After the fire, Stiles spent five years in her Dragon skin, where nothing could hurt her, for her hide was stronger than any weapon ever foraged. Though she took refuge in the mountain of Litroal, where she and a man of Bear-skin were the only two there, because Stiles’ mother told her if anything should happen, that is where she is too hide.

 

The man of Bear-skin was a man named Loy, his kin murdered in a swift night raid by Trolls, he is the last of their kind, was the kindest man Stiles has ever met. He’d only ever seen Stiles’ dragon, never her human face. Stiles remembers when at nights she’d whimper he’d come to her and ran a hand down her snout sometimes with a loud pat by her nose.

 

“Mistress.” Isaac’s voice pulled her from the comforting memory. “The queen has requested to see you.”

 

Stiles pulled away from Isaac, giving him a firm stare as wiped the hot tears from her eyes, “You mean she is coming to see me.” Because Stiles isn’t allowed out of this room; Stiles isn’t allowed to shift. She knows as soon as that seal is broken she’d shift, her wings stretching out wide and strong, her tail lashing out destroying half the city of Brone, her neck long and proud burning the town to its knees.

 

That’s when Stiles hears her mother, “ _We don’t hurt others. Dragons aren’t any different than humans, dwarves, elves, trolls, and so on. Evil is what hurts others. You are not Evil, Styli-anette._ ” Stiles wasn’t, she wasn’t evil. Her eyes are proof of that.

 

A dragon’s eye color will change when it’s soul as crippled and faded. Stiles’ eyes, she knows, are a clear shade of auburn.

 

Isaac swallows harshly, “She- Stiles you will not like what she’ll ask of you.” Isaac’s eyes are filled with pity, something Stiles hates seeing. She’s lived almost her entire life without it, without sympathy with for her losses, that when she sees it in Isaac’s beautiful green eyes, she can’t help but feel like she’s lost so much more than her home.

 

After Isaac left that afternoon, he was replaced with Derek. Though Stiles didn’t speak a word to him, she watch from her seat on the bed as he read on a small chair in the open living area beside her. He’s eyes traced over each word, each sentence, Stiles won’t deny her fascination with his reading, because that was downright beautiful.

 

“Do you want something to read.” Derek stated, because why would Derek son of Talia want to ask out of the kindness of his heart if Stiles wanted to read, let him just assume she wants to read.

 

Stiles lets out hot breath from her nose and faces the opening the left hand side, Isaac opened the curtains for her, since she was tired of walking into the bathing room to send messages, you’d be surprised at all that can stop a message from going through.

 

There was a loud knock on the large double doors, Derek sighed and shut his book loudly, Stiles watched form the corner of her eye as Derek stood, book in hand, and went to open the door. “Laura.” Derek greets almost like it pains him to.

 

“Der. Where is she?” Laura, to what Stiles assumes is the new Queen of Brone, Stiles now turns all her attention to the outside world beyond her window. Another werewolf will not change her ignorance, she’ll continue out speechless through this mating moon or whatever.

 

Stiles hears them walking into the living area. She can smell the barely hidden nervousness on Laura, it almost made Stiles wants to laugh, _this must be what she always smells like,_ Stiles thought with a smirk. She took a deep breath and caught a familiar scent, something that smells like Talia was on Laura’s person.

 

“Sty-”

 

Stiles let’s a growl like rumble roll through her throat and echo through the open spaces, almost like a warning to Laura; Stiles doesn’t know her, doesn’t care to know her. If any Queen after Talia let’s this happen is no Queen at all.

 

“She will only speak with Isaac. I’ve warned you about this.” Derek said strictly. “She’s only spoken to me, directly, a handful of times.”

 

Stiles can smell Laura’s fear, it’s masked by that token of Talia, but again, Stiles can smell what wolves can’t.

 

Isaac handed Stiles clothes before he left, clothes that were far different from the ones she was already wearing, the shirt was thinner, fitting loosely against her, showing off the her clavicle scales, thin and shinning in the mid-day light. Her pants, those she wore when she wore outside these walls, tight fitting, slim pants mirroring the same color of wet woodland floors.

 

“She is the first of her kind since the-” Laura’s words quieted into something suspicious, Stiles didn’t need to strain her hearing,(Again, better than a wolf.) “The raid on the Mountain of Dolliana, to show themselves.”

 

Stiles heart wrenched so painfully in her chest that she didn’t stop the loud and long whimper that ripped through her throat. The cried of her people vibrating out of her cried as she now finishes the puzzle.

 

The _black flames_ are flames of wolves, something dark and sinister. _Dark Wolvish Magic._ Stiles should have known it, she may not remember much, but she remembers a treaty with the wolves, she remembers playing with a young wolf pu-

 

“ _You_.” Stiles snaps her attention away from the window, to Derek. Her eyes narrowed and sharp on him “You _burned_ my kin.” Stiles back off the bed, so the bed itself was a barrier in-between her and the Wolf siblings; “My _Family._ You, who so care for _pack_ and _love-_ ” Stiles fisted her hands at her sides her fangs exposing themselves as she spoke in vicious tongue, “You valued _nothing._ ”

 

Stiles clenched her jaw shut, as she looked at the siblings, Derek’s taken a step back while Laura kept her head held hide and a proud puff to her chest. “We valued _everything._ ” She growled back. She was small and insignificant, she took a step closer to the bed.

 

Stiles’ shift trickled under her skin wanting to show her the power of a Dragon from the Mountain of Dolliana.

 

“Wolves did not burn your kin.” She narrowed her eyes at Stiles.

 

“Black Flames from the east, it’s Wolvish magic. I’m a Dragon, not stupid.” Stiles growled.

 

Laura stood silent.


	6. You can't own me, I'm Free.

Laura is watching her carefully, almost like she expects Stiles to attack her. “I can’t.” Stiles grits out. “As your- Peter- So kindly did for you, is lace the whole place with Sands of Kings. I can’t shift, but I can’t burn your skin off your bones.”

 

“I’m not afraid of you.” Laura says almost like she means it.

 

“You could have fooled me. The way you smell alone would give you away if it wasn’t for the pendent Talia used to wear.” Stiles pushes as far as she can to the wall behind her. Laura looks surprised as her hand reaches up tentively to touch the pendent.

 

“How-?”

 

“Dragons don’t have issues with memory. I remember very clearly playing with the young pup of Talia while she discussed a treaty with my Father.” Stiles informed her with a frown, because know that she remembers, she used to play with both Derek and Laura while their parents were talking in the kings court.

 

It almost hurt Stiles to remember, like she’d forced herself to forget the whole ordeal and now, now she has to relive it. Cutting open, what still feels like an open wound.

 

“You. You were the young princess, the one that-”

 

“Played with the young master Hale.” Stiles finished for her, because she didn’t have the patience to cautious rip her heart apart.

 

Laura’s face went pale, she took a step back towards Derek who hadn’t said a word. Just stood there looking down at his shoes.

 

“I- I have matters to attend. I- Derek.” She gave her brother a nod before leaving the room. Stiles huffed and took a seat on the cool stone and leaned her head against the wall, she isn’t broken yet. Just because she talked with Laura doesn’t mean a thing.

 

Stiles isn’t broken. She isn’t.

 

“Styli-”

 

“Leave me alone.” She growls weakly. She shuts her eyes and points her up towards the window catching the warm breeze and the smells of the streets beneath them.

 

If she strained her senses, she could smell the forest, the damp forest floors and it’s cool shade from the sun. Stiles pictures it, the trees over on top of each other, dense and comforting. She can picture Scott smiling at her, calling her name asking her to come to them.

 

She can see Erica, waving her hand for her to come. She can see Tilikum, peeling and apple with that rusted over blade he keeps hidden in his boot. Stiles can see Boyd, his arms crosses over his chest, waiting for her. She can see Ethan and Danny holding out their arms for her. She whimpers, because she knows they aren’t there.

 

They weren’t their last night or the night before that. It’s the last night of autumn, the clouds are starting to rolling in from the mountains.

 

“We’re safe.” She hears from the wind. her eyes open, half lidded and she tries to smile, because that was Scott’s voice. That was Scott telling her they are safe.

 

Stiles doesn’t know how long she’d been sitting there, though it was long enough for her to fall asleep and have Isaac wake her. His hands holding to her shoulders as tried to lift her off the ground.

 

Stiles dazedly, almost drunkenly stands with him letting him lead her to the bed, where he slips her under the covers and just waits for her to say something.

 

Stiles doesn’t, she just curls around herself and hides her face away. “I must warn you, Mistress.” Isaac whispers, “The mating moon starts tomorrow.” He left the room, not another word. Stiles doesn’t remember when it is that she sees him again.

 

Before the morning found her, Stiles cried and screamed at the top of her lungs, burning her throat with screeches of grief and agony. They sounded so human to her ears, nothing like her dragon-self. 

 

The sands of kings burning bright red as she tried to shift. As she tried to tear at her own skin to get it to change; her claws digging painfully into her armored shoulders and clavicles as she tried to force the shift.

 

Her pale skin and muscle being ripped from her bones, spilling blood on white sheets, Stiles sat on the center of the bed, staring down at her hands and the blood that surrounded her. Claws covered in her own blood, her hair matted in it; her wounds healing themselves, her scales growing back in a faded color before they brighten to the original color.

 

Stiles closed her eyes tiredly. She was tired, she was so very tired. The sun was burning on her exposed back, she thinks back on the times when her and her mother would sun bathe in their scales at the top of the mountain. How great and how free she felt.

 

She remembers the first time she tried to sun bathe her scales while with her companions, she was too big to go unnoticed in the forest, not to mention she’d tear down half the forest after she shifted. She remembers Scott tentively reaching a hand to her snout, she remembers his smile like he accepted her as soon as his hand touched the rough leather of her snout.

 

She pushes off the bed, stumbling on her feet, when she hears the doors open, “Mist-” Stiles meets the eyes of a confused woman, she looked a little like Erica, blonde curls wrapped in a bonnet and bright green eyes, Stiles whimpered, she misses her family.

 

Silently the maid made her way to Stiles, checking her over and tossing a clean blanket over her shoulders. The sheet felt like someone trapped her within her own body but it was more surrounding then it is in the room itself.

 

“I have to clean up before the Master comes in for-”

 

“The mating moon.” Stiles says weakly, “I’m- I’m sorry about the-” The maid waved her off with a small smile. She was human, but she must have seen more of this before. Stiles knows a Wolf doesn’t need a mate until their early twenties, who knows how long they’ve been doing this.

 

“You’re the first, you know.” The maid says. Stiles looks at her as she works her way around the bed pulling sheets off and tossing them aside. “They usually just lock Master Hale in here alone.”

 

Stiles looks away and makes her way into the bathing room. The water sat still in a tub for her, she let the blanket slip off and stepped in.

 

The water was cold, it had been sitting there awhile, and she let her body warm around the cold.

 

She cleaned herself off and stepped out wrapping the blanket around her once again. The maid had left, the bed was clean and there were clothes set out for her on the side. Once changed she walked to the window, looking out into the open area.

 

For a moment she thinks she catches a glimpse of the horses Tilikum and the others ride. But it isn’t them. She told them to leave if anything were to happen to her.

 

The morning sun is bright and Stiles’ heart wants to hide in the darkness that is becoming her best friend. She isn’t scared, she has no reason to be- she’s just alone.

 

Stiles sleeps until the late afternoon when the doors open and someone is pushing Derek into the area. He’s growling and clawing at the door, but it seem’s like they renewed the mountain ash. Stiles just sighs and leans back into the corner by the bed and window.

 

She closes her eyes and listen’s to Derek’s heart, how it sounded like it was going to beat right out of his chest along with his heavy breathing. He began to pace the length of the living area by the time the moon is shining into the room.

 

Stiles points her nose up towards the window, she can smell the burning of wood, she can see the ashes lighting the dark sky. She misses her family.

 

Stiles goes unnoticed that night.


	7. Burn me with fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the mistakes! (I should really re-read what I do, or something, but yeah.) Sorry, again.

Stiles can't fight it anymore; the bond is too strong, too powerful. Derek is next her, his body lax and pliant, his back raising and falling with each breath. It’s been four nights since the mating moons started. Derek sleeps during the day, when Stiles is lazily awake carefully watching Derek with her heart tugging at her, asking her to wake him, to have him bite and lay claim on her all but willing body again.

  
She's tired, but her senses are hyper-aware of everything. From the way the room smells of sex, Derek, her own lust, to the sound of Derek's relaxed heart beat as he lay quietly next to her.

  
Stiles slides out from under the sheets and the whimper that escapes her, not only surprises her but has Derek stirring in his sleep, his arm searching for her, he’s body not moving from its comfortable resting place.

 

There's a low growl the echoes through their quiet den, it’s a possessive growl that has Stiles shivering to the core. Stiles sits on the floor, her front pressed up close to the bed and she reaches out, having her finger tips gently touch at Derek's hand just shy of petting, she let’s her fingers ghost over his knuckles. Stiles hears something that almost sounds like a purr when she let’s Derek take hold of her fingers, and she finds herself smiling, the feeling of comfort and safety is there pumping like blood through their fingers.

 

  
Her soul hates this, her soul is turning in its cage, but her heart, her heart feels like she finally belongs somewhere. And she knows that's wrong. Even if she felt at home with her companions, she just felt like a piece to an unfinished puzzle. Her mind denied any and all chance for reason. She's stopped looking for a way out when Derek ran a wolf claw down her scaled neck and hot breath that ghosted over her lips. She's giving up because Derek forced his mating bond by biting her shoulder that first night. It’s only stronger now because of the Moon so she tells herself. Because the truth now seems so much more frightening then the lies convincing her to stay by his side.

 

  
Stiles is allowed sun very morning since it started. Maids, because Isaac has gone missing from her life and she whines every time she sees them. They tie kings rope around her neck and lead her into an open court where the grass and sun are always soft and comforting; she falls to the ground and just rolls in the fresh grass and sun, even if her shift itches under her skin, she enjoys what she can. They let her stay there a few hours or until the sun has pasted the west tower.

 

  
Stiles hears the doors open and she turns to find the maids with welcoming smiles on their lips and rope in their hands. Stiles sighs and looks back at Derek, where she knows her heart stays long after she leaves the room. She let's go of Derek's hand and walks towards the two women. Stiles has never seen them before, which is strange, Stiles has met every maid that was allowed up here be it for food, water or clothes. Stiles defiantly doesn't know these women.

 

  
Stile backs up cautiously, she might have threatened Derek and Laura with burning their skins, but she can't even do that in this room. Stiles then realized that Derek was sleeping and these women had more then kings ropes in their hands.

 

  
Stiles let out a deep throaty growl, if Stiles learned anything is that Derek is always a step a head of her. Her growl was responded back by a loud roar, one Stiles has only heard from great distances, it was loud enough that Stiles had to cover her sensitive ears for fear of them being damaged.

 

  
The women don't seem affect as Derek is jumping up in front of  Stiles, shielding her from them.

 

  
The two women, whom Stiles finally placed their scents, which was difficult considering that the room smells of both Derek and Stiles, are witches, "now, now." The older looking one says, "we've come to collect that beast."

 

  
For a moment Stiles didn't know who she was referring to, they both happen to be beasts. The younger one smiles at Derek who let's out a low warning growl "The girl, if you please." She reaches out her hand and in moments Derek's shifted into his fur. Pushing Stiles onto the bed. He huffed at her , as if to tell her to back away.

  
  
Which, no. Stiles spent more the a good amount of her life fighting witches. They smiled at Them, the older one smirked "Looks like they've mated Mary." She creates a loop in the rope and spins it in her hands. 

 

“Wewon’t kill you if you just hand the dragon over, Master Hale.” Derek looked ready to pounce, which should scare the witches. Derek’s wolf was bigger than Stiles, his muzzle was the length of her head, his paws could rest on Stiles’ belly and she’d have a blanket.

 

Stiles pushes off the bed and touches the scruff of Derek’s neck, he stiffens but doesn’t move his eyes from the two woman. Stiles leans down to Derek’s pointed ear, “Break the sand.” Stiles whispers.

 

Without question Stiles walks up in front of Derek, there’s a small whine that escapes Derek and Stiles fells her heart clench in her chest, she stretches her arms out and stares purposely at the rope in the witches hands.

 

“That’s right.” The witch grins.

 

“Protecting her mate, that’s why her kind died long ago.” The other chimes seemingly smug. Stiles snaps with a growl fangs well exposed and expressing her anger.

 

Its in that moment that Stiles feels like her body is a thousand times lighter, feels the shift ripple under her skin. She gives the witches a toothy grin, her chest and throat burn with power as she takes in a sharp breath and releases it. Breathing fire may look easy, may seem easy. But it’s not.

 

The witches burnt to nothing but ash at the door, Stiles falls, meeting the cool floor with a thud.

 

“Stiles!” Derek’s voice echo’s a little in the room, Stiles doesn’t have it in her to actually turn and tell him she’s okay, since she was deprived of an actually shift she used what she had to take in her fire breathing.

 

It isn’t long after that Stiles wakes up to Derek presses to her back, she shifts slightly and Derek’s arms tighten around her mid-section. “M’ fine.” She mumbles. Derek loosens enough for her to turn and face him. His hazel eyes staring back at her like he wasn’t going to see her again. That’s when Stiles releases he wasn’t scared of Stiles not being okay. He was scared Stiles would leave him. “I can’t.” She whispers, she leans in and brushes her nose on his scruffy chin, just below his lips.

 

There’s a growl then Derek’s pulling away and meeting her lips, forcing them together. Stiles clasps her hands to Derek’s face, holding him as their lips pushed and pulled at each other.

 

Derek rolled them so he’d hover her, wedging his legs in-between hers, he growled, deep and bone shattering, Stiles let her hands slip off his face and slid their way to his shoulders. Derek’s muscles rippling like a shift under his skin.

 

“I’d find you.” Derek growls by Stiles’ ear, she shivers and whines her response, Derek’s worked her shirt off and has his hands almost ghosting the expense of her exposed torso. “Even if you didn’t want me too.” He adds trailing hot, wet kisses down the line of her scaled neck.

 

“ _De_ —.” Stiles cuts herself off, in the dark of the room she can see the glowing of her chest against Derek’s, it’s both beautiful and terrifying,  she wiggles, pushing herself out from under Derek until he takes her hands and slams them by her head. He gives her a stern look then leans down and kisses her clavicle, trailing his lips down, “You won’t burn me.” He says quietly, if it wasn’t for her great hearing she would’ve missed it.

 

“You don’t—,” she takes in a sharp breath as Derek’s teeth close tightly around her nipple, “ _God._ ” She slides her leg against Derek, to which he response to by suckling the bitten nipple.

 

“Burn me with fire.” Derek breathes hotly over the wet of her breast, and then moves to work on the neglected breast. Stiles arches into the feel of Derek’s sweat ready skin. Even if Derek opened up the chance for her to kill him, something in her breaks and she just ruts herself against him.

 

“ _Drown me with rain_.” Stiles whimpers, she knows how broken and desperate she sounds. She knows with every breaking fiber of her body that Derek's the reason she is breaking and the reason she is still together. To humans, what she said may not sound like much of a threat to her being, but water to a fire dragon is like a knife to a market person. Stiles knows Derek knows this. Derek hums and slides his hand down between her legs, she flinches at the warmth seeping through the fabric of her pants but greedily leans back into it. 

 

Stiles can voluntarily take a bath, she can bathe in the water falls from the Elven country, she can swim with the water dragons of the east, but if her skin burned that sweet color of orange like the setting sun, it could kill the fire that keeps her heart thundering in her chest.

 

“ _Derek—Oh my, please—Derek._ ” Stiles pants as Derek drags a sharp claw down her outer thigh. He sits back on his knees and stares down smugly at her, his eyes a brilliant, bright crimson  Stiles wants to hide her face from his watchful gaze, but something in her tells her she can’t look away.

 

Derek takes a deep breath and slides his hands down and grips her hips and harshly drags her up to him where his every noticeable erection brushes against her still clothed cunt, why was she still wearing pants? Why? Derek hums darkly, his the black of his pupils almost engulfing the red of his irises. He bucks his hips forward and Stiles whimpers at the sudden contact, pulling her arms back to her so she can at least pull her own damn pants off.

 

Derek growls and takes her hands in his, pulling them up to his lips, where he places wet kisses to her tips and rolls his hips against her, “De— _please._ ” She whimpers as her eyes almost shut and her head pushes back against the bed. She’s pulling at her hands in a weak attempt to get Derek to _let go._

 

He just opens his mouth and runs his fangs over her fingers; he jerks his hips forward again, like he’s testing the waters (Ha.) before rolling them. Stiles is gaping and half lidded eyes as she grins back on to Derek, she whimpers on last time and he releases her hands, but they just drop beside her as Derek snakes his body down on her.

 

He gives on solid kiss to her neck, wraps his arms under the arch of her back and whispers “ _Scream my name_.”

 

And Stiles does.

 

* * *

 

_Burn me with Fire_

_Drown me with Rain_

_I'm gonna wake up_

_Screaming your name_

_Yes I'm a sinner_

_Yes I'm a saint_

_Whatever happens here_

_Whatever happens here_

_[ We Remain ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXN-PFL9Ot8)  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was totally because I was listening to (and totally quoting) "We Remain." By Christina Aquilera. I'm such a sap. Geez. I have to learn to stop that . . (But I won't because I don't know how too.) Oh well.


	8. I can't breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really short, compared. But I wanted to update so, I hope you guys like it. And hey, I've seen the comments, trust me, Derek will turn good side when it's time, if anything in the next chapter you are going to learn some dirty secrets involving Peter and some guy named Lucis. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

It’s dawn when Stiles wakes up, Derek isn’t beside her, her heart sinks and she frantically searches the den, and she spots him sound asleep in a chair with a book in his lap. Stiles smiles softly and sits up, her lower back screaming in protest. She holds the sheet to her chest and quietly works her way out of the bed dragging the sheet with her.

 

Suited like a dress Stiles quietly pads her way to Derek, she runs her thin nailed fingers through his hair and huffs when he leans into it. Stiles does this for a few seconds before she changes into her clothes, which the maids kindly provide for her every morning.

 

Stiles hums and stares out the window by her bed, she doesn’t realize it yet, but her hand is sticking out, catching the warm breeze. It takes a few minutes but she jumps back and holds her hand to her chest.

 

“He didn’t—.” She takes a step forward again and holds out her hand the sun shines bright and warm, her thin scales shining with the light. Derek hadn’t fixed the sand, the thought almost took all the air out of Stiles’ lungs “I can leave.” She whispers.

 

She’s free, she can destroy this awful place, she can easily shift now and—her heart clenches painfully in her chest and she doubles over. She takes deep, shaky breaths, “I _can’t_ leave.”

 

Just the thought of leaving has forced her heart to beat painfully, almost like she was burning herself from the inside. “I—I _can_.” Stiles was always quick to jump from buildings, she was ready, she just wanted to see her family again, Tilikum, Scott, she wanted to see them so badly. Stiles was kneeled in front of Derek’s sleeping body, She whispers into her palms, “ _We remain._ ” And cups his ears gently, the words warm and hushed tones Derek will hear when he awakes, she places a chaste kiss on his forehead.

 

She is ready to leave, but she won’t destroy this den, it’s all Derek will have left with her scent _engraved_ into every stone surface, Stiles will leave the den just how it is, because she won’t force Derek through parting with her like she’d forcing it on herself.

 

She takes one last look and jumps.

 

She catches herself quietly onto another roof, working her way down until she jumps into a small hay stack, there’s a dark brown cloak hanging from a cart next to her, she takes it and swiftly disappears into the crowed market place.

 

Stiles’ heart is pounding loudly in her ears, and her inner being feels like it’s melting within itself as she works through the crowd, further and further away from the Hale’s castle. The gates have been opened for some market trafficking, Stiles sneaks out with little trouble, she takes a deep breath and the smell of the damp forest floor fill her nose, her heart settles a little with the familiar scent, she knew well where she had to go, and on foot. There wasn’t any chance of her shifting here and not getting noticed. Derek has most likely woken from his sleep. Because the bond was already suffocating her, almost like it’s willing her back. Like being tied by the ankles with heavy bricks.

 

Stiles runs, she runs as fast as she can, she knows it will take two, maybe three days to get to the Mountains of Bale, with her speed she’ll be there in a day’s time. Her heart, despite its breaking, jumped at the words and feelings of comfort and acceptance from her companions. So Stiles runs.

 

It takes her until the next morn’ to reach Bale, and when she does, she’s out of energy, and running on nothing but sheer will to see her family’s faces. She makes it to the gates and hears a guard yell, asking for her name and what she means on trying to pass through Bale. It’s a riddle, and she has the answer, but before the words make it out of her throat she collapses.

 

She recognizes a scent, before everything becomes dark and all she can do is hope someone remembers her.

 

Stiles wakes up to a warm cloth on her forehead and a warm hand in hers, “ . . . _Isaac?_ ” her voice tight and hoarse, she tries to work herself up but a hand pushes her back.

 

“Don’t move, you’re still a little weak, you need to rest some more.” Stiles knows this voice, this heady, gruff voice of the man that took her in when she was younger, in her twenties mind you, but younger nonetheless.

 

“Tilikum.” She knows and doesn’t care how relieved she sounds, she opens her eyes and it a little blurry, but she can see the outline of Tilikum’s body. “I’ve missed you, my friend.” Stiles lunges forward, warping her arms tightly around his neck. She hears him chuckle and wrap his arms around her waist.

 

“I’ve missed you as well, dear. We all have.” He kisses her temple and pulls her away, though she isn’t ready to let go, she relents, and her eyes clear up and she can see the faces of her companions.

 

“Oh—,” It’s a wet cracked sob that escapes her when she see’s their faces for the first time since all of this.

 

They all crowd her expect for Boyd who waits by Tilikum, Scott is the first to hug her tight and rub his nose to her neck, Erica is on her opposite side doing the same, while Danny and Ethan are sitting at the foot of the bed, “I’m missed all of you.” She whimpers in a sob as her hands try and grasp what they can. Eventually Boyd makes his appearance and lays his back right between her legs and faces up at her, she smiles down at him and almost forgets she’d been crying.

 

Boyd reaches up a hand and pets her cheek, wiping away the fallen tears and chuckles, “We knew you’d come back.” He whispers. His words sink deep into Stiles’ heart, she feels a low rumble, something familiar, and not from the same person she was expecting, her heart sinks a little. Because she may feel like she’d home with her companions, but her heart stayed, miles and miles away from here.

 

Stiles shakes the thought and rolls in the feeling of her family. She'll talk when she has too, thought they'll have to leave Bale as soon as they can, Derek must have already come looking for her. She has breathing room, wolves were never as fast as Dragons.

 

But now, now she has her family in her arms and cuddled around her, with smiles and laughter, Stiles just breathes easier knowing they still love her. She'll sleep effortlessly tonight.


	9. Dreams of panic, and gentle shifted mornings.

_Its morning and Stiles opens her eyes softly, letting the sun takes its time, waiting to see Derek's bare back with the glow of the sun glazing over him. But what Stiles see's isn't Derek. Its ash, black and piled beside her, "You couldn't just stay put for a few days, could you, Princess." That icy voice, Stiles scrambles out of her bed and falling on the ground with a loud thud._ _  
  
  
"No...this- this isn't real.." Stiles stutters out, watching as Peter's face become clearer. He gives a small chuckle with a grin.  
  
  
"For you, Stiles, this is very real." He examines his fingers, holding something bright and sharp, "I remember your mother, she was very beautiful." He smiled.  
  
  
Stiles covered her ears and violently shook her head, "Stop. Shut up." She whimpers. Peter chuckles at her again, she watches him carefully.  
  
  
Peter holds the sharp object over the ash on her bed and smiles with razor fang teeth, "Who would've thought this small ruby would burn up and kill a whole dragon race. Render them powerless against the black flames." He snickered.  
  
  
Stiles shook, her body betraying every instinct to kill this man. Stiles was scared was afraid to move, Peter hummed, "Well, that goes to show how powerful Dragons were." The last word was smeared and twisted, piecing a hole deep in Stiles' heart.  
  
He drops the ruby and Stiles tries to get to her feet, "No!" She screams, but it’s too late. As soon as the ruby hit the ash, black flames blew from her bed, the impact throw Stiles hard against the wall.  
_  
  
"Derek!" Stiles screamed her body lunging forward, "Derek!" She's griping, kicking and shaking her head, her powerful yells are more Dragon then human.  
  
  
"Stiles! Whoa, Stiles listen! Your safe!" Stiles hears she thinks she knows this voice, there are arms wrapping around her tight, forcing her to settle against the warm body. Stiles is hiccupping and burying her face in the chest of this person, his heart beating loudly against it. He's petting her head, shushing her gently, "it’s okay. You’re safe, Stiles." He says, "You’re safe." His heart started to settle, Stiles clenched her hands to his shirt, and just cried.  
  
  
She knew it wasn't Derek. He wasn't around when Stiles panicked, Isaac or the maids were, they calmed her, shushed her just like Boyd was doing now.  
  
  
"I'm fine now. Thank you." Stiles says way to formally for her liking. Boyd just loosens his hold but doesn't let her go. They stay like that for a few moment, the rest of them come by and just settle into the room, some sit on the bed others find chairs.  
  
  
Tilikum is the first to talk, "I think it’s time we know, Style."  
  
  
Boyd lets her go, Stiles looks at her make-shift family and gives a nod. Its been a seven days since they left Bale. And every night Stiles screams awake with panics, most of the dreams are different. Some of Peter burning something she loves, some of Derek claiming her body with teeth and claws. But they are always bloody and violent, including the black flames of her past.  
  
  
"My kind," Stiles starts, "we lived in the mountain of Dolliana, and we were peaceful and prosperous." Stiles examined each face before she looked back down at her hands, "My father, the king rule strong and kind for ages, like his father before him. My mother was just as powerful, and just as kind. We were allies with most of the species, expect-"  
  
  
"The Wolves." Scott finished.  
  
  
Stiles nodded, "They came from the east to settle and wanted friends. I remember playing with a young prince and princess."  
  
  
"That's why you didn't want to go into Borne." Erica said, her face dropping from the stone expression she had.  
  
  
"I grew up with the Hale family. They were beautiful people, aside from the vampires of Oaklia." Stiles huffed a little. She remembers the cloudy day sky, playing with the children of Silverdoubt, Stiles thought it was funny that a vampire's last name involved sliver. "One day, when I was coming into my own around the age of seven." Stiles gripped the sheets a little tighter between her hands. "There was a pain that stung my chest, my mother screamed for me, calling my name through the halls."  
  
  
Stiles took a shaky breath, "I was in the library, reading something on forest nymphs. She came in and pulled me out, dragging me all along the corridors. I tried to tell her, I tried to tell her." Stiles voice cracked, "My- dragons have a different kind of bond. We are faster, quicker, and stronger, then anything. I- my emotions were not only mine, they were of everyone I loved _and_ my people." Stiles looked up and meet everyone's eyes. "I felt them dying, burning alive in their own homes."  
  
  
Erica was the first to let her tears pool on her eyes. "My mother, while looking for my father told me to get out while I still could. So I did.”

 

“You’ve been running since then.” Boyd leaned his weight back onto her side, there was comfort and understanding in the motion.

 

Erica wiped her eyes and leaned against her other side, Ethan gripped her ankle and rubbed soothing circles, the movement sending Stiles back to Derek. He’d wake her at night but doing the same thing, though this movement was less intimate, the feelings were still fresh and there.

 

Tilikum sighed, “I found you years after that.” He dips his head low, almost like he was ashamed.

 

“I wasn’t anywhere near you, any of you. It was chance that lead me to you.” Stiles says, her voice calm and soft, she knows how much it hurts Tilikum to know Stiles was in pain and he couldn’t help her. “I—You have to understand that Dragons are solitary by nature, when my kin was-, by my nature I forced myself away from anyone.”

 

“Unless their family by blood, Dragons won’t willfully look out the company of others.” Danny says from a chair next to Ethan. Stiles nods, because it’s true, though it’s slightly different now, with these people. She calls them family, because they are, so she’ll always seek them out, forever.

 

“My bond to all of you is strong enough to bring me back to you.” Stiles gives a small smile.

 

It isn’t long after that that Stiles tells them her history with Peter. They all know how shady and off he is, so it isn’t a surprise that they all know what Stiles is talking about. She doesn’t share the details of her time with Derek, just that he was there some nights and some mornings. She knows they can still smell him, its something that a bond won’t break, Stiles has already mated with Derek, it’s already too late to regain her own scent, and the fact that the others don’t mention it, don’t bring it up, Stiles is grateful.

 

They leave the small town and had towards the west to a small hobbit city known as Kilinie. The town is sunny and bright, small rolling clouds that shade beautiful open rolling hills. Stiles remembers her mother telling her about the half-lings, they are a kind people.

 

Stiles knows she’s further away from the darkness in her heart, the darkness that has red eyes and claws, the darkness that howls at the moon whenever she lays for sleep. But she’ll always feel Derek, always.

 

They stay in a small in run by a family of six, kind people they are, the wife was a generous care giver when she met Stiles, tending to her hand and foot. Stiles found it strange, she hasn’t had any care close to that since—well, yes.

 

Stiles was out in a large open field, know homes or trees around for miles. The sun was warm and the breeze was cool. Stiles sighed and let her shift rumble from her core. She smiled and let it flow. Her tail and hind legs sprouting her chest forming accordingly, her wings stretched and wide, Stiles feels free. She does every time she shifts, she can see better, she can hear better, its all clear and it feels amazing.

 

Stiles rests herself on the open field, breathing in the smell of the sun soaked grass. Her tail is curled a little around her, her wings tucked gently beside her. “I thought you’d wait till we left to shift.” She hears. Stiles catches a glimpse of Tilikum walking to her from the forest.

 

Stiles gives a huff, Tilikum smiles. Stiles has missed his face, missed his smiles and the way he felt like family. Tilikum was peeling an apple when he came up to Stiles snout, “Open.” He said, Stiles rolled her eyes and opened her mouth slightly, Tilikum popped the apple into her mouth.

 

The sweet flavor, though the apple was almost the size of a grain of sand, was bursting on her tongue. Stiles gave a growl of approval, Tilikum laughed and patted the leather of her snout. “I know how much you like apples. Mrs. Glimes said there were some sweet apples in the forest.” Tilikum said, he sat down by Stiles eye, gently rubbing a hand to her cheek.

 

He didn’t say much after that, just continued to pet her cheek bone, and hum a tone that Stiles vaguely remembers. But she safe and she really couldn’t care.


	10. Let them Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qC0ZR9CFAQQ)
> 
> That's the song for this chapter, and I really hope you guys don't hate Derek that much, but either way, here Sterek is the end game, MAYBE. You never know what's going to happen.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and I'll be sure to post more soon!

_“Let them burn.” Stiles growled, “All of them.” pulling her green and white long-flowing dress along with her as she works her way up to her throne. Stiles can feel the heat that burns orange-red under her green-gold scales. Boyd looks at her for a wary second and she looks back at him from over her shoulder, her eyes hard and a golden red._

_“Let them burn, Boyd.” She said again. “They’re no longer my concern.” Stiles sits down on the cold stone and placed either hand on each arm of her seat. Her soul is spiraling in blazes of white hot flames, and her shift tingles under her skin, feeling freedom sing its way from her heart. She’s free._

_Boyd gives her a nod before he looks out for Scott, who is standing down the corridor and he howls, a small howl that Scott doesn’t answer, just leaves after hearing it._

_“Queen Sti-”_

_“Boyd, please. Its Stiles, just . . . Stiles. My title means nothing, you are my family. Just like Tilikum and the rest.” She sighs, “I’m only a Queen to those outside my kin.”_

_Boyd nods and takes a step down from next to her throne, facing her, “Stiles, you don’t have to do this.” He says. Stiles sits a little straighter and her left hand makes its way to her belly, where she feels a strange bump forming._

_“I do.”_

Stiles wakes up, sitting up violently and cursing under her breath; she can feel the cold sweat surrounds her face, she looks around the small bedroom dark casting shadows looming around the floor and slowly surrounding her, Stiles suddenly feels threatened, feels like she isn’t safe where she’s resting.

 

There’s a need to move, to leave, and stay hidden. Something in her is telling her to hide away, to fly. Stiles kicks the blankets off and throws her clothes on, running out of her room and down long halls of dark oak wood. Stiles makes her way down steps quickly and heads outside, where the cool air hits her like a stones.

 

She can feel her breath come in crashing waves as she stands quietly outside the inn, “You alright?” Stiles is turning around fast and her eyes shine their golden color, Ethan holds his hands up in defense and stays where he’s leaning against a small pillar.

 

“Ethan,” Stiles pulls her claws back, “I, uh, I thought you were someone else.”

 

“Prince Derek.”

 

“What?” Stiles narrows her eyes at him, she watches him carefully, listening to his heart beat. But he isn’t panicking, and he doesn’t seem scared. He just looks at her, calm and collected.

 

“You thought I was prince Derek.” He repeats.

 

“I- No.” Stiles straightens her stance and averts her eyes, “You should wake the others, it’s time we leave this place.” She says in a rush, Stiles still feels like she’s being watched, like someone other than Ethan is looking at her.

 

“Its late, you should rest and in the-”

 

“Get them now.” She snaps. She slowly realizes that she’s growled at one of the men that’s been a care giver to her, the man that’s watched her grow, and helped defend her when she needed it. Ethan is staring back at her, his eyes just a little wide, “Ethan, I, I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

 

“Its, It’s alright. I’ll fetch the others.” Ethan is walking away from her and into the building. Stiles takes a breathe of air, wishing more than anything that her skin didn’t crawl the way it did, that her heart didn’t feel like someone was holding a knife to her scaled neck.

 

Stiles is humming quietly before she can stop herself, she sings quietly into the wind, sending her song to who doesn’t deserve it, but she can feel the stress and the anger and its almost suffocating her where she stands.

 

It isn’t long before Scott and the rest are behind her, watching carefully as she looks over her shoulder at them. Stiles can feel that they know something she doesn’t and she’s too scared to ask.

 

They head out, Scott is standing next to her, dazedly walking and yawning. Stiles raises her hood and smiles because she feels her heart settle and her need to hide is suddenly gone.

 

“What time is it, Danny?” Scott asks, Danny is on Scott’s horse, Dot; he hums quietly as he looks up passed the trees.

 

“I don’t know, maybe an hour or so before sunrise.” He answers; Tilikum works his way to Stiles’ other side and keeps pace with her and Scott. Boyd, Erica and Ethan are quietly walking over by their small wagon.

 

Stiles knows they know, because they’re small unit of people, and Ethan had to have told Danny, and Danny must have warned Tilikum. And though Tilikum and Scott are the only two standing next to her, she can feel the tension in the air.

 

Stiles sighs and hides her hands within her cloak.

 

\--

 

“No Laura, you don’t understand!” Derek growls, pacing the floor in front of the small throne room, “I felt it, I know that it was-” Derek stops, a small whisper of wind surrounds him, the sweet sound of music travels around him.

 

He’s heard this before; he knows the thin wisp of a voice that sings quietly within the wind.

 

“Der-”

 

“Shh!” Derek swipes his hand towards his sister, he knows if he listens quietly he can make out the words, but the sound is gone as soon as it came. He clenches his jaw and glares at his sister. “She’s out there, unprotected.” Derek growls, low and warning, Laura stares back at him like he lost him mind.

 

“What do you expect me to do Derek? Find her? Send our army out to tear apart the whole world to find that Dragon.”

 

“Stiles, Laura. She’s the lost Princess, Laura and she has a name.” Derek narrows his eyes at Laura, “Have you forgotten that our family is the reason hers is dead?” Derek should be scared, he should be exposing his neck to his sister, he should be submissive, but he couldn’t care anymore or any less; he’s mind is slowly slipping and he isn’t sure he can survive it.

 

Laura is narrowing her eyes at him, tossing aside some parchment and their mother’s favorite pen. “ _Peter_ is the reason her kind is dead. _Peter_ is the reason _our parents_ are dead, Derek. Don’t put that weight on me.” She growls back, sounding hurt and a little disappointed, “I’m not sending any wolves out to find her. If she wants to hide away from you, let her. She isn’t my concern anymore.”

 

Something inside Derek snaps and he’s shifting so quickly and attacking that he doesn’t even realize that he’s fighting his own Alpha, he’s Queen. Laura has shifted just as quickly and grabbed Derek’s throat in-between her sharp teeth. Derek goes limp, _I can’t help you, Derek, I won’t waste time on someone whose running of her own will,_ Laura growls, her bright crimson eyes exposing her fear and her regret.

_I can’t live like this, Laura. I can’t._ Derek whimpers kicking his legs weakly, Laura lets go of his throat and shifts back, pulling a robe over her naked skin in fine threaded cloth. Derek stays in his fur, whimpering his sorrows down at his sister’s feet.

 

“I know you didn’t mean to attack me, and I know you didn’t want to be locked in that room with someone as unwilling as she. Peter took her without my knowledge, and I’m sorry that you couldn’t control your action during the Mating moon.” Laura almost looks like she’s regret every life choice she’s ever made since she’s become Queen. “I’m spending my time looking for Peter, Derek.” Laura tells him, Derek lifts up slightly, walking up next to her, ducking his ears down and tucking his tail between his legs.

 

“Peter had a plan, and if I stop looking for him, I won’t know what surprises he’ll have after we-” Laura stops, and sighs. She brushes her fingers through Derek’s dark fur. The feeling is comfortable and soft, something Laura has been able to do since before their Parents were murdered. Even during the Ordeal, Laura managed to keep Derek from shifting and interfering with the fight.

 

Derek knows what Laura’s trying to do, and he knows how hard she’s trying to keep in her power, even if their parents taught her how to control it, it was still hard for her considering she came into power so young. After Peter challenged their Mother, Talia, and their Father to an Ordeal, Laura and Derek would know that even if Peter came out of the Ordeal alive, Laura would become Alpha and Queen.

 

At first glance, Derek’s parents were fair amount larger then Peter, but Peter was conniving and deceiving. Derek watched from his seat as his Parents feel to the ground their blood staining the beautiful marble arena. Laura howled her grievance as her eyes shined a brilliant red. Derek remembers Peter’s returning howl, that soon was followed by the other skin-walkers.

 

Laura was only seventeen then, and she had problems with her shift, she had problems with treaties that were anointed after the death of their parents, Peter was a larger issue only because Laura knew well that once she was in her forties he’d challenge her to an Ordeal. Just like their parents.

 

Now, Derek wasn’t making it any better.

 

“If you want, Derek, go yourself. Find her and _fix_ it.” Laura says quietly, Derek isn’t sure what she’s really asking and it isn’t until her voice is a sharp bark that Derek knows Laura is letting him leave.

 

Derek is up on his feet and stepping away from her, “Go!” Laura barks, and Derek is scrambling on his four paws and leaving the throne room faster than his legs can really carry him. Wolves may be fast, but Derek’s given Stiles five days time to leave the city, and with no leads to follow, Derek heads for the only place Stiles would actually head too.


End file.
